Best Friends
by DreamersMyth27
Summary: Daddy's not gonna like that, a voice says gleefully, snickering the whole time. Mommy's isn't either. You've been a bad boy. Better get ready to be PuNiShEd!


**This is pure angst, plus some hurt/comfort. There are warnings for: horror of the psychological variety. Some description of injuries. Panic Attacks/Metal Breakdowns, brainwashing, and death. Some allusions to depression, but those are lighter. Pretty much just watch out. Also swearing. If I miss anything please do let me know and I'll add it to the warning but I believe this is everything. This is also AU, just so anyone reading this knows.**

 **I'm not a hundred percent happy with the last half, but hopefully it's still okay.**

* * *

 _Then_

 _2015_

The terror, pure, unfiltered, _terror_ hit him almost as soon as he fires the gun.

 _Daddy's not gonna like that,_ a voice says gleefully, snickering the whole time. _Mommy's isn't either. You've been a_ bad _boy. Better get ready to be PuNiShEd!_

Then the flag hits Daddy's back and goes through his chest, piercing his heart. The voice in his head goes silent for the first time in days and he feels a giggle bubble up in his throat and escapes.

"That's not _funny…_ "

Then Daddy stops laughing and falls to the ground, twitching. He continues to stare in sick fascination until the blood slowly staining the floor is a huge puddle instead of just a few drops. He grins even wider until his mouth starts to hurt. He looks at Batman and giggles again. He drops the gun dangling from his fingers. A blood-wrenching cackle bursts out of his mouth, dark and dangerous and gleeful. He's free. Daddy's gone - _Dead as a doornail,_ the voice sings - and Mommy's nowhere in sight.

He hardly notices someone grabbing his shoulders and holding him as he collapses to the ground, still laughing. He's crying too, but that doesn't matter as much. He's safe. He's _safe_. Daddy's gone for good and now he can just laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and-

"Tim, snap out of it," a voice begs brokenly. He looks up and through the tears streaming down his face, he sees a girl with red hair wearing a cowl. He's sure he knows her from before, but he's not allowed to think about before. Before is for good boys. He's not a good boy. Daddy and Mommy both say so. They punished him a lot, he thinks giggling out loud. "Please, Tim, _please_."

He doesn't like being called Tim. Tim is from before and thinking about before is bad and it means he'll be punished and he doesn't want to be punished he wants to be a good boy for Daddy and Mommy and he doesn't want to be punished anymore and he can't be called Tim because he's Junior, not Tim. He's a good boy. Not a bad boy. He listens but Daddy's dead and Mommy's gone so maybe it's okay to think about before but thinking about before brought pain so maybe he shouldn't.

He can't decide so he just laughs. And laughs more. And more. More. More. More. More! _More! More! More! More!_ And laughs more! Laughing and laughing and _laughing and laughing!_

He just keeps laughing and crying and crying and laughing and laughing and crying and crying and laughing until something pricks his neck and his vision slides into darkness.

* * *

When they first arrive, Barabara still has hope. She and Bruce both think finding the Joker and Harley Quinn doesn't have anything to do with Tim being missing. That neither of them is involved in the newest Robin's disappearance. That's why they don't call Dick. They have him continue working with M'gann and Conner looking into the Light, who they suspect is responsible for taking Tim.

She wishes it had been the Light.

Because Tim is like a little brother to her. He doesn't deserve this. He hasn't even been Robin for two months. And now a whole month of that has been spent with the _Joker_.

At first, neither she nor Bruce understands what they've walked into. It's supposed to just be another mission to catch the Joker. Then there's that reel of film the Joker has rolling. It doesn't even show everything, she thinks, feeling sick. Just some electroshock 'therapy' as the Joker says and the result, Tim, huddles in the corner of the room, no longer strapped to the table and mumbling answers to every question the Joker asks.

Then the Joker appears from behind the screen followed by Harley, both going off in a monologue about children and adoption. Then they call for 'Junior' and Tim appears. He's smiling unnaturally wide and his eyes are glazed. He trots right over to Harley, giving her a stilted hug. She responds by patting his head.

When she first sees him she almost throws up. Tim is so pale he's almost white. He's always been a paler kid, but not like this. Not _white_. His hair is green and she can't see his roots in it at all.

The fight after that is over simultaneously quicker than she can blink but also takes a lifetime. It ends with Harley gone and the Joker dead on the floor. Tim kills him.

Then he laughs. And he doesn't stop. Not until she makes him.

"God, Bruce," Barbara says, pulling her cowl down and looking at him. " _God._ That… that _monster!_ "

"I know, Barbara," Bruce whispers, staring at the Joker's body. He's not looking at her or Tim, who's knocked out in her lap thanks to some quick thinking. At the rate he'd been going he probably would have kept laughing until he died. "I know."

"Tim is _thirteen_. He's thirteen and that sick fucker did this to him," she growls. "I need, God, we need to get him home, B. He needs help. The Joker _bleached_ his skin."

And it is bleach, she can tell now, being this close. God, Tim's skin is going to be burned all over. He has burn scars on his forehead from the shock's the Joker kept doing to him who knows how many times. At least, she finds herself thinking, he'd left Tim's mouth alone. She's seen what he's done to people when they don't 'smile' big enough for him. She doesn't want Tim to have to deal with that too.

"Get Tim home, Barbara. Tell Alfred you're on your way. Call Leslie and Dick. Get them there too. No one else."

"What about you?" she asks.

Bruce finally turns to look at her. He looks… sad. Defeated.

"Someone's got to make sure no one finds the body, don't they?"

* * *

When they arrive at the Batcave, Tim is just starting to stir. He's not laughing, so that's good, at least in Barbara's head. He sits up in the backseat as she parks, rubbing his eyes blearily and looking confused.

Barbara takes a deep breath, preparing herself, and turns around. She pulls her cowl down and smiles gently at him. Tim merely looks at her, slightly perturbed. There's no sign of recognition anywhere. At least he doesn't seem scared of her.

"How are you feeling?" she asks. She hopes her smile isn't coming off as a grimace.

Tim, for his part, almost seems to be… curious. He tilts his head, considering. He doesn't answer her.

"Alfred is here and Dick is on his way," she forges on. "So is Dr. Thompkins. She's going to take a look at you. Make sure you're okay. Do you want to… how about we get you into some better clothes."

Tim looks down at his clothes then and frowns slightly as if just noticing the sick replica of the Joker's own wardrobe he's wearing. He looks back up at her, brow furrowed. Then he nods, just barely and very jerky, but it's still a nod.

"Okay," Barbara gasps, relieved beyond words that at least he understands her, even if he seems unwilling to talk. God, if the Joker were still alive she'd kill him herself.

She opens the door and hops out of the driver's seat, then she opens the back door, grabbing Tim by the hand and gently tugging him after her. He follows silently, letting her bring him towards the showers.

"Here we are," she says cheerily, all false. Alfred isn't down here yet, probably still getting a hold of Dick. So it's up to her to get Tim cleaned up. "I'm going to get the shower started. Why don't you sit there," she adds, gesturing to a plastic chair kept by the showers. She's not actually sure why it's kept there, to be honest. She's just glad it is.

Tim listens, walking over there and sitting down. He plays with his fingers, interlocking them and releasing them over and over again. His green hair falls in front of his face, blocking her view of his face. She watches him a few moments longer before turning the shower on, waiting for the water to warm up.

It doesn't take long before it's plenty warm. She shakes her hand out and tosses her gloves to the side of the room. Tim is still sitting there. Still playing with his fingers. God, he's thirteen. _Thirteen!_ The Joker isn't just a monster. He can't even be called human. He took Jason away from them, blew him up. And now he's broken Tim's mind. Tim, who's the smartest, kindest, most amazing person she's ever known.

"Come here," she says softly, tapping Tim on the shoulder. His head snaps up, fixing her with a curious stare. She gestures for him to stand up. "I'm going to get you some new clothes. You take off these ones and shower, okay? There's a towel for when you're done over there," she says, pointing to the stack on a shelf. "I'll be right outside the room. If you need me just call, okay? Or make noise."

Tim nods again, this time it's less jerky that when she'd asked him if he wanted to take a shower. She takes that as a positive. She probably should make sure he showers alright, but after what he's been through he deserves a few moments to himself. He deserves to have his privacy.

They keep warm sweatpants and sweaters in the Batcave's locker room that fit everyone as a precaution. She never knew what they could possibly be used for before tonight.

She waits outside the showers, listening to the water run and leaning the back of her head against the wall. After a few minutes, the water turns off. Tim emerges, wrapped in a towel. His hair is still green, but at least his skin isn't as pale. He'd been bleached, but it looks like it was only his face and arms. The rest has washed off and revealed his normal skin tone. Even his face isn't as pale as it had been. That, at least, is a relief. Not as much damage as she'd first thought.

"Here are the clothes," she says, setting them down on the ground. "I'll turn around while you get dressed."

She does just that, listening to the slight rustling sounds of him getting dressed. A few moments later the noises stop. She waits until she's sure he's dressed and turns around.

The sweatpants and sweater dwarf him, despite being his size. He's lost a lot of weight under the Joker's 'care'. His face is gaunt and his fingers are too bony. He looks like a lost little kid. He looks confused like he doesn't quite understand what's going on around him. That almost hurts more than anything else. Tim is sharp as a tack. He's not one who should be this confused, not ever.

"Let's go and sit down in the medical bay," she says. Tim grabs her hand. Barbara's eyes shoot to him, but he's hiding behind his hair again, which is falling into his face, dripping slightly. She squeezes his had, which seems to comfort him because Tim leans against her. "This way."

They arrive, and it's only once they're there that she realizes maybe being here isn't a good idea. Tim immediately starts to hyperventilate, looking at her with big, scared eyes.

"It's okay," she tries. Tim just pulls away from her, hugging himself around the middle and shaking like a leaf. "Here, look. It's fine. I'll sit here with you." She hops onto the hospital bed, patting beside here. "I'm safe and you'll be too. I promise, Tim."

This, finally, seems to work. He stops, moving closer to her timidly. His eyes are darting around him, but he finally sits down carefully next to her.

"See, it's safe," she chirps. "I'll stay here the whole time, Tim."

He leans against her again at that, humming slightly, the first time she's heard him make noise since she knocked him out. The first noise she's heard him make in about a month that isn't bad. Isn't a sign of how much the Joker messed him up.

"Oh my," a voice says quietly from behind her. Tim spins around, tense and scared. Barbara looks slower, placing a hand on Tim's shoulder to let him know he's safe. Let him know Alfred won't hurt him.

"It's okay, Tim. It's just Alfred. He's safe," she whispers to Tim.

"Master Tim," Alfred says softly. "How is he, Miss Barbara?"

Barbara smiles sadly at him. "He's tough. He'll get better, eventually. I'll tell you later. Did you call Dick and tell him we found Tim?"

"Yes, I did. He's on his way now," Alfred replies.

"Okay, okay," Barbara says, stroking Tim's hair until he finally relaxes and leans against her again. "When he gets here, make sure he doesn't just come running down here. I want Leslie to look at him first."

"Of course," Alfred says, then looks around. "And where is Master Bruce?"

"He's… he's taking care of a body." Barbara doesn't meet Alfred's eyes. "I'll explain later. But we can't have anyone finding it."

Alfred raises an eyebrow. "It will be explained to me."

"It will," she promises. "Just not here. Not where he can hear."

"Of course. I will go and wait for Dr. Thompkins to arrive. We don't want to overwhelm Master Tim."

"No, no we don't" she agrees, glancing down at Tim. He's closed his eyes, but he's obviously still awake. This is probably the first time he's felt safe since he went missing. God, how messed up is that?

Alfred leaves.

"I'm so sorry it took us so long to find you, Tim. I swear we were looking, even if that monster said we weren't." Barbara sighs. "We missed you, Tim. I really missed you. I'm sorry this even happened to you."

And Tim, he looks up at her and for the first time since he's been here his eyes are clearer, filled with tears and wavering, but clear.

"Mi-mi-mi-missed y-y-you-ou to-o-oo," he manages before closing his eyes, breathing deeply.

Barbara feels tears fill her eyes too and squeezes them shut, pulling Tim close and hugging him tightly resting her head on top of his.

* * *

After everything, once Bruce is back and Dick's here and Leslie's checked Tim out and chewed Bruce up, Tim is asleep peacefully. They have a long list of what to do, including calling Black Canary over as a therapist. It isn't like they can just use a normal one, especially in Gotham.

"The Joker, Bruce!" Dick snaps, quiet enough so that Tim doesn't stir. "The Joker had him! You're lucky he's alive."

"You think I don't know that, Dick?" Bruce snaps back.

"Dick, let it go. We can all yell at each other later," Barbara says tiredly, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. "Bruce, just stop getting mad too. We need to focus on Tim."

And that means a lot. Skin treatment to repair the damage the bleach had done. A cocktail of anti-infection medication to make sure nothing gets infected. Trying to figure out what the hell the Joker had done to Tim's hair because it's growing in green at the roots too. It's not just dyed. Making sure he has no permanent brain damage from being electrocuted. Therapy. This isn't a quick fix.

"Tim's going to need a lot of love. And he doesn't need to hear you two trying to _kill_ each other!"

"I'll get to work on something for the Joker Venom in his system," Bruce offers, which is the closest thing they'll get to him admitting he'll listen.

"I'll let Conner and M'gann know we found Robin," Dick adds.

"No details," Bruce says. "Tim wouldn't want them to know. If he wants to share he can, but only when he wants to."

"Agreed," Barbara says. "You don't have to lie to them, just don't tell them what happened to him."

Dick nods. "Okay."

Barbara looks over at Tim again. He looks peaceful, almost like the same kid he'd been a month ago. But he's not. His hair is green and his face is white and he has electrocution scars on his forehead. He can't even talk, not really. He started laughing, earlier. When Leslie was checking him out. The Joker Venom is really messing with him. But he's still Tim. He's still their Tim.

"But… how do we know the Joker won't do something like this again?" Dick asks. "That he won't come back for Tim? He knows who we are, you said."

"He won't," Bruce says grimly. "The Joker is dead."

It's quiet for a moment. Dick's face goes through a large range of emotions but eventually settles on shock. And disbelief.

"Bruce, you didn't…"

"Tim killed the Joker, Dick," Barbara says, looking him in the eyes. "The Joker told him to kill Bruce and he shot the Joker."

" _God_ ," Dick breaths. " _Oh my God._ " He's looking at Tim now. " _Timmy…_ "

"He'll get better, Dick. Tim is strong." Barbara smiles crookedly, glancing at Dick.

"I know he will," Dick says fondly. "But Tim didn't deserve this."

"No one did, Dick," Bruce says. "And that's why we're going to help him."

"And no more Robin," Dick says. "This has been twice now, Bruce. He's going to die. I can't deal with another little brother being killed."

"No more Robin," Bruce agrees.

"Good luck with that," Barbara whispers, looking over at Tim, quiet enough that neither of them hears her.

* * *

After a week Tim is already improving in leaps and bounds. The bleach burns on his skin are healing, but his skin is healing pale, almost as pale as it was from the bleaching. Bruce suspects Joker had something that made it permanent in the bleach. It's the same with the hair. It's been growing in green, not Tim's normal black. Barbara hopes it'll stop, but for how crazy the Joker was, he was a genius.

Tim's been talking again. He doesn't say much. They suspect because of the trauma. Talking meant getting punished. And even though he knows logically that won't happen, it's a lot to get over.

He hasn't laughed since, and that's probably good, to be honest. Bruce has been trying, but he hasn't been able to get all the Joker Venom out of Tim's bloodstream. None of them know what will happen if he starts laughing. None of them know if he'll be able to stop.

He seems to know what happens when he laughs and he doesn't try to anymore. He doesn't smile either, but that's okay for now. As long as he gets better, Barbara doesn't care what it takes.

Leslie is coming every day. She has other patients, yeah, but she also cares about Tim a lot. Bruce had offered to get a doctor from the Justice League. She'd turned him down. Told him that Tim was her responsibility.

The only other person who knows what happened, fully, is Dinah Lance. Bruce calls her right away, sets it up for her to come over every day for the foreseeable future. She's Tim's therapist.

It helps, Barbara can tell. He's still healing, but he's getting better. His violent outburst sopped completely after the first few days. He's more like _Tim_ again, just quieter. Sadder. He carries a weight with him, one he didn't before.

* * *

Tim gets better. It takes weeks, months, really, but he gets better. He can tell he's still damaged, scarred. He's not an idiot. He's not going to pretend that he doesn't have nightmares. That he doesn't hate himself for what happened.

(He can't bring himself to regret killing the Joker though. He doesn't think he'll ever regret _that_.)

He hates his stupid skin and he hates his hair. He hates the Joker for doing this to him, marking him as a victim forever. Tim takes to wearing turtlenecks and sweaters that make it hard to tell he has such a large difference in skin tone. He dyes his hair monthly to keep it black, to keep the green from showing. He practices meditation. Black Canary, Dinah, comes over once a week for him to talk to.

The point is Tim's better, maybe not as good as before, but better. And he wants to be Robin again. Bruce and Dick are firm. They refuse. But Tim isn't going to let that stop him. Why should he? It didn't before when Bruce said no.

He prepares for weeks, hacking a backdoor into the zeta beam and adding himself in, making sure no one catches it. He keeps up on his training behind locked doors. He steals his spare uniform out of a locker.

H waits until Bruce is at the weekly Watchtower meeting for the Justice League and Dick and Barbara are on a date. He goes to Mount Justice.

People must hear him the zeta beam power up because when he gets there he sees Superboy, Miss Martian, Beast Boy, and Aqualad waiting. Staring. At him.

"Hi," he says quietly, raising his hand in greeting. "I'm Robin."

"I am aware," Aqualad says sternly. "I was told by Nightwing you were not joining the Team for the foreseeable future."

It's a question hidden in a statement. Tim shrugs. He doesn't smirk or smile. It's still dangerous for him to with the Joker Venom Bruce hasn't been able to get out of him fully. Probably won't ever be able to free Tim from.

"Plans changed. I got sick of waiting around. I figure may as well not give anyone a choice."

"I like you," Beast Boy declares. "You seem cool. Want to hang out?"

"Sure?" Tim says.

He's never really hung out. Heck, he hasn't been to school or near anyone his age in months. He's not going to be allowed back in school until Bruce is sure his 'violent outbursts' are finished with. It's hard though. The anger sneaks up on Tim when he's not paying attention, biding its time until he's so full of it he may burst.

Sometimes he can feel them coming, but it just feels better to yell and scream and kick things and throw things. Dinah says that it's not a symptom of the Joker Venom. She tells Bruce it's normal for children who've been exposed to stressful situations to be prone to bursts of anger.

Doesn't help him if it's normal or not though. Tim's well trained. That makes him a lot more dangerous than any normal kid would be during bursts of anger like his.

He follows Beast Boy, smiling. There's no way Bruce will be able to keep him from Robin.

* * *

"What were you thinking?" Bruce asks. He's calm, calmer than he usually is when he's mad. Granted he had to act calm in front of the Team when he caught Tim and dragged him back to the Batcave.

"I was _thinking_ I'm ready. I'm not some kid, Bruce! You can't keep me from this. It won't work. We both know I'm too smart."

"So you weren't thinking. Tim, you're-"

"Dangerous," Tim spits, tearing his mask off and throwing it to the floor. "I know. I'm a danger. I'm violent. I'm angry. I'm a killer." His voice breaks on the last word. He's ashamed to notice that angry tears are spilling out of his eyes.

"Tim, I don't want you to get hurt," Bruce whispers, almost too quiet for Tim to hear.

"I won't, Bruce," Tim says, also quietly. He's facing away from Bruce. He can't show weakness. "The Joker is dead. I killed him. Harley is in the wind. And unless I suffer another mental breakdown I should be okay. We both know most of the Team can take me down if need be."

"Please, don't do this," Bruce begs. And it is begging, Tim can tell.

"I think I have to," Tim says, turning around a furrowing his brow. "I need to help people. I just… Bruce, you know what I mean. You wouldn't be able to just stop, would you? It's like that. Every moment I'm here instead of helping people I just bottle up all of this energy and I feel like I'm always bouncing my leg waiting for you. Hell, you don't even let me in the _Batcave_ without supervision!"

"Fine, Tim! Fine!" Bruce says, somehow throwing a massive amount of energy into those three words without even raising his voice. "Fine. You can join the Team. Nightwing will bring you next training day. But not Gotham, not yet. Not until you've shown me you can handle it."

"As long as I can run comms here while you're out," Tim negotiates.

Bruce cracks a smile. "If I'm out later than 1 am you go to sleep and trade off with Alfred."

"If that's what it takes," Tim says, holding his hand out.

Bruce grabs it and gives it a firm shake, sealing the deal.

* * *

 _Now_

 _2017_

" _Intel was off,"_ Cassie's voice says across the comms. " _We've got Harley Quinn with Poison Ivy. Better get them both._ "

Tim feels himself freeze.

" _Robin, you work with Blue and take down Harley. Kid Flash and I will handle Ivy,_ " Cassie continues.

"You got it," Jamie says from next to Tim. It rings through the comms a second later. "Robin and I will handle her."

" _Just wait until Wonder Girl and I lure Ivy away_ ," Bart says. " _Better that we don't have to deal with them working together. You know how much that'd suck._ "

"Affirmative," Jamie says. He turns to look at Tim and flips his comm off. At least the part that lets them hear what he's saying. "You okay, _esé_? You're kind of pale."

That is almost enough to make Tim want to laugh. But no, he wasn't okay. He couldn't just tell anyone that though. He'd just have to deal with this one his own and hope Harley didn't say or do anything.

"I'm fine," Tim manages, giving Jamie what probably isn't a very comforting look. "I'll be fine," he amends. "I just don't like dealing with Harley."

"At least it's been a few years since the Joker popped up," Jamie offers.

Tim turns away.

"Yeah," he manages. "At least."

From there it all goes according to plan, mostly, that is. Except for the end. When Harley manages to see him in the shadows. He'd been able to land hits on her without her seeing him while she was looking at Jamie. That didn't work forever, apparently.

"Birdie?" she asks, cheery and pleasantly shocked. "I'm glad to see ya! I see those scars Mr. J gave you healed! Too bad about the hair though; I've always been fond of green."

"I haven't," Tim snaps. She blocks a series of kicks, flipping away and dodging Jamie's blast.

"I've missed Mr. J since he died," she goes on fondly. "You were a bad boy, killing him, Junior."

Tim freezes. Harley takes advantage of that and goes after him. Tim is only saved by Jamie finally hitting her with his sonics and knocking her out against a tree. Another attack pins her.

"Robin, you alright!" Jamie exclaims, grabbing Tim by the shoulders when he's finished. "What happened there?"

"N-nothing," Tim stammers. "I'm fine."

"You froze, _hermano_ ," Jamie says. "What was she talking about? Calling you Junior and green hair? Scars? Killing the Joker?!"

"It's not important," Tim tries, shaking his head furiously. "Please, Jamie, let it go."

"What's going on?" he asks. "Tim, tell me. It's okay."

Vaguely Tim realizes he's shaking all over. His eyes are tearing up. He collapses like a puppet with his strings cut. He feels Jamie wrap his arms around him in a hug.

"We're back!" Bart cheers suddenly, appearing next to them. "Poison Ivy is neutra-"

He falls silent, no-doubt at the sight of Tim sobbing and Jamie hugging him tightly. Tim hardly hears Jamie tell Bart to get Cassie. Even more vaguely he hears Cassie arrive.

"Tim, you're okay," she says. "Just please, please tell us what's wrong. Please, Tim."

He should be telling them no names in the field. He should be okay, shrugging all this off. He should be a million other things, but he's not. He's scared and alone and thirteen again, trapped with the Joker and Harley, being tortured and electrocuted and terrified.

He doesn't even know what he's doing when he starts laughing and sobbing. All he knows is he can't stop and he's not sure he wants to. God, he's so scared and lonely.

"Tim!" he hears someone exclaim distantly. He can't bring himself to care. He just laughs and he knows he shouldn't be laughing but he can't help himself. Nothing's okay and he doesn't know if it even has been since he was thirteen and innocent. Since before he was Robin. He doesn't really think anything ever will be okay again.

Then the world goes dark.

* * *

When Tim wakes up he's alone in one of the medical bays on the Watchtower. Okay, not alone, he amends, seeing Bart, Cassie, Jamie, and Dinah waiting for him. Bart is asleep. Cassie's face is buried in her hands. Jamie's on his phone. Dinah is looking over what must be his chart.

"Hey," he croaks. Wow, his throat is sore. What happene-

Oh.

That's what happened.

"Tim!" Cassie exclaims. "You're awake."

"Tim!" Bart shouts, jerking awake.

Jamie levels him with a look.

"Good to see you're okay, Tim," Dinah says gently. "They refused to leave until they knew you were okay."

"And what happened," Jamie says.

"Yeah!" Bart cheers. "No way we're leaving you alone until we know what's going on."

Tim starts to shake his head.

"Tim, you really scared us, you know," Cassie says.

And Tim knows his secret isn't going to be a secret from his best friends (and girlfriend) any longer.

"I'll tell you," he whispers, looking at the ceiling. "Promise. Just, tomorrow, okay? You can come to my house."

They all share a look before nodding.

"Now shoo," Dinah says fondly. "I need to talk to Tim."

* * *

His sessions are upped to twice a week. They'd been down to twice a month before all this. He goes home a few hours later. Alfred makes him spend the day in bed, sleeping. Dick probably hasn't even heard about it. Not that Tim expects him to have. Dick's been… distant since Wally's death.

The next day Tim beams Cassie, Bart, and Jamie into the Batcave.

"Hey, Tim," Cassie greets him, unusually subdued. All of them are, actually, even Bart. That, beyond anything else, is weird.

They all stand in silence for much too long. Awkward doesn't even begin to describe it.

"What do you want to know?" Tim finally offers.

"What happened to you?" Jamie asks seriously.

Tim averts his gaze from all of them. "I guess the closest term would be a mental breakdown. I know, it's not what you may expect, and I know it's dumb, but I just hate it when she calls me _Junior_."

"Tim, you're the strongest person I know," Cassie says. "It's okay to have weaknesses. It doesn't make me, us, any of us, love you any less."

"Ditto," Bart adds helpfully. "But, why Junior."

Tim shudders at the word. "It's a long story. I just, I never wanted to share it. Have you guys ever heard about how I started as Robin but didn't join the Team for almost seven months and when I finally did I had to sneak to the cave?"

"Once," Jamie says. "But I thought Batman was just protective of you."

Tim laughs bitterly. "He was, but more he didn't want me to hurt anyone else." They all look slightly alarmed. "I wouldn't have meant to, but I wasn't exactly in the healthiest mental state at the time. The Joker, I'd been Robin for a month and the Joker caught me. He killed the previous Robin, you know? I thought he was going to kill me. He wasn't."

"What happened?" Cassie asks.

"The Joker wanted a sidekick, I suppose. And to hurt Batman. He tortured me," Tim says, looking at them for the first time since he started explaining. "Electrocution. Wanted me to be pale like him, so bleach. Green hair dye. It was, three weeks of that, I think. Not just electrocution, but you get the picture. I was pretty willing to tell him everything I know."

Tim closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"He dressed me up like him, I think. I don't remember it all that well. Batgirl tells me he did. They - Harley and the Joker - called me Junior. They tried to get me to shoot Batman."

"What happened?" Bart breaths.

"I shot the Joker," Tim says. "He died. Just… I haven't seen Harley since. It was harder than I thought it would be. There are still scars, I guess, and not just mentally. My skin, I'm pretty careful, but whatever chemicals the Joker put in his bleach have left my skin pretty pale, a lot paler than it used to be. My hair still grows in green. I dye it a lot. It takes a lot since most of it doesn't stick long."

"Tim, you could have told us. We would have understood," Cassie cries, grabbing him in a tight hug.

"Yeah, _hermano_ ," Jamie says, joining in the hug. "We're friends."

"Best friends!" Bart exclaims, wrapping his thin arms around all of them in a surprising show of strength. "Just say the word and we'll listen, no judgment!"

"I know," Tim says softly. "I know."


End file.
